Page 39 of Puck Daddies

Tom leans in. “What is it?”

“Cease and desist.” Somehow, I keep my voice level. “They’re claiming the bee art and recipe names are Callie’s.”

Aqua reads over my shoulder. “That’s not hers.”

“I know.”

Bex taps the page. “We should post this. People will lose it.”

“We’re not posting it.”

Tom grabs his phone. “Then let me draft something. I’ll call her out.”

“Put your phones down. We’re not doing trial by internet.”

“Retaliation,” Bex says. “Because the honey night worked and the fake reviews didn’t stick. You got them taken down, so they’re mad.”

Tom’s already pacing. “We could rename everything ‘Not Callie’s Honey Latte.’”

“Funny. Also, a lawsuit.”

Anthony points to the bee painting behind the counter. “She’s not taking that off the wall.”

“No one is touching Aunt Bea’s paintings.”

Aqua sets the box down. “What do you want to do?”

I want to scream. “We breathe. We serve. We get a lawyer who will hit back. I’m texting Oliver.”

Tom snorts. “Rich boyfriend cavalry.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I step into the office and take a photo of each page. I text Oliver one simple word:Help.

His three dots appear immediately.On it.

I forward the photos to the email he sends and return to the front. The line is steady, but my hands shake. Tom is biting his tongue. Anthony is tamping like the portafilter did something to him. Bex is watching the door.

“Work. That’s the plan.”

They get back to it. I jump on register. Coffee, honey lattes, tea. Names. Change. Smile. Next. The letter sits in the office, haunting me.

My phone rings. Unknown number. I answer anyway. “Meg.”

“Dana Kline,” a woman says. Efficient voice. “Oliver sent me. I’ve seen the scans. Do not respond to the letter. Send me the highest-resolution images you have of the original artwork. Send me documents showing Bea used the bee branding before Ms. Mornay’s employment. Staff schedules showing when Ms. Mornay worked. Old menus. Any email where Bea discussed names. Everything you can possibly document. I know some of that will be difficult to find, but I hope you can. We’ll file a response and a demand for withdrawal. I’ll also send a preservation notice to their firm.”

“Aunt Bea kept everything in storage in case of an audit.”

“Good,” she says. “In the meantime, do not alter your branding. Do not rename anything. If you receive a second notice, forward it. If they file, we’ll answer.”

“Thank you.”

“One more thing. Do not discuss this online.”

“We’re not posting anything.”

“Good,” she says, and clicks off.

I put my phone down and ring up a regular at the register. “Two honey lattes, one chai.”